


The Old Fairy Tales

by TheMalapert



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Disney Princess Jaskier, Fluff, Jaskier has a brain for once, M/M, Magic doesn't work like that, Near Death Experiences, Sad Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sappy, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMalapert/pseuds/TheMalapert
Summary: May I introduce Disney Princess Jaskier:Geralt has no idea why Jaskier won't kiss him, even though they're together now. He broods about it right up until it saves his life.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 367





	The Old Fairy Tales

Jaskier operated by his own set of rules, regardless of what reality had already decided. He was an unnaturally good singer. Despite his most famous song making a goat pun, he routinely made enough coin to put them up for the night, meals and a hot bath waiting. He was unnaturally lucky. A human traveling with a Witcher had to be. He was unnaturally charming; everyone either fell to his feet or into his bed. Geralt tried for many, many years to not be either. But especially the latter. He’d told the bard true when he said he didn’t want anyone needing him, but then along came Yennefer and his Child Surpise and dammit, why couldn’t he have Jaskier as well? 

Their first time was so simple. Geralt pulled Jaskier into a bath, and he complained that the scents he used for Geralt conflicted with the scents he usually used for himself. He settled in between Geralt’s legs and let Geralt return the favor of hair washing. And Geralt just hadn’t stopped, washing lower, hands over the body he’d so craved to explore. He could smell Jaskier’s lust, always had, but so close, he pressed a kiss into the crook of the bard’s neck and inhaled the sweet mix of them. He jerked Jaskier off in the bath, and Jaskier enthusiastically returned the favor once they made it to the bed. 

Then it got complicated. Like it always fucking did. All he’d wanted was a fucking kiss; he’d walked in on the bard lip locked with more people than he could count. But Jaskier turned his head. 

“Not on the lips, if you please, love,” he’d said. 

Well, why the fuck not??

He’d thought that maybe it was just that night, that Jaskier had some sort of sore. But next time, slowly fucking on Geralt’s bedroll, Jaskier kept his lips busy on Geralt’s neck, leaving bruises that wouldn’t last till morning. Then again when Geralt returned from a hunt, _Jaskier_ was the one that jumped him! Didn’t even take off his bloody armor, just sank down and sucked him off like his life depended on it. Still a distinct lack of smooching. 

His brothers would never let him live it down if they knew how much it was driving him crazy. 

Did Jaskier not want to kiss a Witcher? It didn’t make sense. He’d spent his career singing their praises, and he had no problem taking a Witcher’s cock into his mouth. Did Jaskier just not want to kiss _Geralt?_ He couldn’t fathom why. They’d done everything else. Were Geralt’s lips not nice? Were they chapped? Too rough?? His potions. Was Jaskier worried he might accidentally get poisoned? He knew Geralt had kissed whores before, right? And Yennefer?

It boiled under his skin for weeks; he finally had the bard, and Jaskier wouldn’t kiss him! He couldn’t help staring, when Jaskier sang, when he talked the innkeep to a lower price, when he laughed at Roach's whinnies, almost like they were having a conversation. Jaskier always took it as a come-on which led to another great fuck where Geralt would have to bite Jaskier’s shoulder just to keep his lips to himself. Jaskier wore the teeth marks like a ruby necklace, and Geralt loved to see his bard preen, but he’d love it even more if Jaskier would _fucking kiss him_. 

It wasn’t long until he was bleeding out on the forest floor, never having kissed what was perhaps the love of his life. Well, if this was the end, he could say for certain. Jaskier was the love of his life. Really, the blood loss wouldn’t get him first; the poison would. Wyvern claws weren’t usually poisonous, but he’d been lucky enough to catch the Queen during mating season when she _really_ didn’t want to be bothered. 

Dandelions were perhaps his favorite flower. Or… buttercups? The yellow ones. His favorite color was blue, though. The blue of Jaskier’s eyes. He just wished that he could have seen those eyes again. Jaskier would make one hell of a ballad out of his death, throwing in something like a dragon or a jilted mage. He wondered what the tune would be: heroic or maudlin? Would Jaskier even be able to sing it? Geralt liked to think his bard would grieve but move on. Be strong for him. For Ciri.

Oh? Oh shit, why the fuck was Jaskier here?

Jaskier crashed through the trees, sleeves of his doublet torn from briars. Geralt tried to growl at him for following; he’d specifically said don’t follow. _Don’t_ follow. Jaskier tripped over himself to get to Geralt, hands fluttering around to find the worst of it, but it was all the worst of it. Hmm, Jaskier was babbling. He looked so cute when he was worried. Lips set in a little pucker. 

“Geralt, what’s wrong? What do you need? Swallow?” Jaskier fumbled for a vial from his pockets, but Geralt shook his head. 

“No use,” he rasped, and it made him cough, the wounds in his chest seeping. 

“So you’ll just heal on your own then? I’ll bring Roach, and we can set up camp…” Jaskier trailed off, eyes bulging with tears. Geralt flexed his fingers. He was sure he could do this. Raise his hand, touch Jaskier’s face one more time. But the muscles in his bicep were slashed, he couldn’t move. Jaskier understood anyways, bringing Geralt’s hand to his face. 

“Love you,” Geralt said. His bard let out a sob. 

“ _I love you_ ,” Jaskier breathed. He pressed a kiss to Geralt’s palm. “You’re going to be alright, okay? Just hold still, my love.”

Geralt was content. He let his heavy eyes shut, focusing on Jaskier’s warmth. He wondered how long he would last like this, suspended between pain and bliss. 

He felt soft lips touch his, and he sighed into the kiss. _Jaskier._

Time seemed to stop. His wounds no longer pulsed, and his medallion nearly shook off its chain. Light burst behind his eyes, and they flew open, but he couldn’t see. Was there something he’d missed? Was Jaskier in danger? A breath of summer air carried across his face, apple blossoms and hot grass. Warmth like honeyed brandy spread through his limp limbs. Feeling returned to his fingers, and his hand pressed against Jaskier’s face, running down to tangle in the hair at his nape. Through it all, Jaskier’s lips molded to his, kissing him fiercely. 

When his sight finally returned, he squinted, Jaskier’s figure silhouetted by the rising sun. His eyes came into focus, and there was his bard. Tears wetting his lashes and pinking his cheeks, but he smiled like a man in love. 

“There you are.” Jaskier reached up to cradle Geralt’s jaw, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. 

Geralt swiped a hand over his abdomen, noting the distinct lack of bleeding wounds. 

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He growled. Jaskier was human. He knew this. Everyone knew this. Yennefer made fun of him for it; a human in a story of Witchers and mages. 

“Can’t I just bask for a moment, my love?” That was the tone that meant _can we just drop it, Geralt?_

He wasn’t capitulating. It was just that he had such a good grip on the bard’s hair, and Jaskier was so close. Geralt surged forward, crashing their lips together again. Jaskier responded in kind. He wound his arms around Geralt’s neck, hands digging into long silver locks. His tongue darted out to tease Geralt’s, and with a low groan, Geralt pressed further into Jaskier’s willing mouth. The world spun, and Jaskier found himself flat-backed in the dirt, and he didn’t even care about mud on his new doublet. 

“What the fuck?” Geralt couldn’t keep himself away. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier braced his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and shoved until Geralt finally managed to stop. Geralt hovered, captivated by Jaskier’s now kiss-swollen lips, his bright eyes gone dark with lust. 

“True love’s first kiss?” Jaskier offered as explanation, but Geralt showed his teeth. “Alright, alright, get off me, you great brute.”

Geralt reluctantly rocked back, sitting on his heels. Jaskier took a second to admire the view—he loved Geralt on top of him—before he scooted back enough that the temptation was bearable. 

“Have you ever heard of the Grimm fairy tales?” Jaskier’s fingers fiddled with the split seams on his sleeves. 

“Ciri likes them. They’re about princesses and things.”

Jaskier dipped his head to the side. “Well, my Uncles certainly take creative freedom with their works. They’re much darker in the books than what truly happened, but the masses love their blood, don’t they?”

“The point, Jaskier,” Geralt said. 

“Well, you see, they're all about my family,” Jaskier said in a rush. Geralt blinked, and for the first time, he glanced away from Jaskier. 

“The girl with the long hair?” That was one of Ciri’s favorites. 

“My great aunt,” Jaskier admitted. “Though the so-called tower wasn’t any taller than a windmill. I’ve been there.”

“The sleeping one?” 

“Which? The one who ate the apple or the one who pricked her finger?” Jaskier threw up his hands in such a familiar gesture it made Geralt smile. “Aurora is actually my eldest cousin, and she’s doing quite well for herself as a tapestry weaver. We’ve seen some of her works in the balls that we attend.”

 _That you force me to_ , Geralt thought, but now was not the time. Slowly, pieces slotted together like petals falling from a flower. Geralt was reminded dimly of a game he used to play with his mother— _she loves me, she loves me not_.

“True love’s kiss?” Geralt asked. His tongue poked against his lower lip. It certainly was a divine kiss, but magical? He’d never be so arrogant. 

“I’ve seen some pretty powerful things happen for my family. Cured the plague, broken curses…” Jaskier said quietly. He teared up again and wiped a hand heavily over his eyes. “I’m sorry, my love, I know I hurt you.”

“That’s why you wouldn’t kiss me,” Geralt said. Jaskier nodded blearily. “You were saving it.”

“What with being a Witcher, I figured I’d have to watch you die eventually, and if I could… if I could just delay it at all—“

Geralt kissed his bard, cutting off the rant. He poured months of _wanting_ into the kiss, months of wondering why he wasn’t good enough. Jaskier moaned, and they found themselves again in the dirt, Geralt pressing his weight down, the bard’s legs locked around his back. Geralt rocked forward, rutting into Jaskier's hips. _Months_ , Geralt thought. And he would never need to wonder again, now he could _have_. Gods, he would never get his fill.

“Darling, can’t we make it back to camp?” Jaskier mumbled around Geralt’s tongue.

“Hmmm.” Geralt reached around to palm Jaskier's ass in the way that drew a needy moan from him. Why would he want to go anywhere when he could have his bard right here? Right now. Geralt was exactly where he needed to be, and that was between Jaskier’s legs. 

“Geralt, if you think I’m going to let you fuck me next to this monster corpse like last time--”

Geralt growled deep in his chest and lifted Jaskier off the ground. 

“Oh,” Jaskier said, planting his hand on Geralt’s chest. “Talk about making a man feel like a princess.”

“You saved my life, Jaskier,” Geralt replied, smirking down at his blushing bard. “Now I get to make love to you properly.”

“ _Oh, Geralt_.” 

It took longer to stumble back to the campsite with Jaskier’s lips attached to his, but somehow, they managed. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea that Jaskier is just some guy, but I also love bamf!Jaskier, so I wanted to throw those both in with a healthy dose of Disney Princess. Cartoon/Love Story logic is my favorite. Thanks for reading, and if you enjoyed, go check out some of my other one-shots! I'm on a roll in this fandom.


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